Brad’s birthday was yesterday, and since we didn’t do much for him last year, I decided to surprise him with some fun.

Have I ever told you how much I love surprises? LOVE THEM. Seriously. It doesn’t even have to be big. I get excited about someone leaving a book on my front doorstep for me.

My mom kindly took the yard apes for the night, and I ran around like a crazy woman, sweating in the rare humidity that covered the city yesterday. I picked up champagne, balloons, birthday desserts, and packed up a bag for both Brad and me…because I booked us a room at the Anniversary Inn, baby!

The Anniversary Inn has all these wacky theme rooms….which on first thought is a little strange and kinky, but let’s go with it. I just imagine all these nice young Mormon couples heading there after taking their vows in the downtown LDS temple…so excited for some action and sparkling cider in their room that looks like King Tut’s tomb!! YEEEEEEHAW!

Anyway, they had a room there that was themed sort of like a Mississippi swamp, which I figured was perfect for us. Brad would feel right at home and we could reminisce about all his childhood fishing trips on the Flint river and being shot at by hillbillies when he ran over their fishing line.

Notice to the left of the bed – that rock wall area? Our very own Mississippi grotto! And yes, we sat in the huge tub in that grotto and killed a bottle of champagne within 30 minutes. Brad got all excited when I pulled out my camera, like YEAHHHH BABY!! And I was all, HELL NO, this is just for BLOGGING PURPOSES, HOMEY.

And then I got drunk on champagne and forgot to take any more pictures of us or our lovely dinner at the Wild Grape, where we had a beautiful cheese plate and delicious wine and one awesome chunk of bison in the form of a burger with onion straws on top.

This is where that bottle of champagne used to live. For thirty minutes.

These were my well-intentioned desserts from Cucina, but after we stumbled home to our grotto we just could not eat one more bite. Plus we were too busy listening to the neighbors bumping and grinding and moaning and hollering in their mining shaft themed-room. Or was it a log cabin? I forget.

The only thing that I suppose would have made Brad’s birthday better would have been to get a slab of ribs for my southern boy to eat in his jetted tub while listening to Lynard Skynard.

Oh, this poor girl. After sharing this sad, sad photo with Zadge, I decided to just go ahead share it with the whole damn Internet. Because after looking at this photo for a time, I decided it is not so racy.

Racy would be if there were some nip hanging out.

And no, Zadge, that big plastic cup with the straw is not holding booze. Laugh all you want, but some sneaky photographer caught this girl during a moment of her heartwrenching, lifelong battle with narcolepsy.

See how this piteous creature just falls asleep during normal, everyday activities? Like while nursing a baby? Or while at a keg party? Or during a rousing game of Bunco?

One thing that never fails to astound me is the power of the bowels. Seriously.

Have you ever gone to the bathroom to do your thing…sit down to get your business done…and you feel like nothing is out of the ordinary and it takes you a normal amount of time to do the job and then you stand up and OH MY GOD THAT TURD IS FOURTEEN INCHES LONG!!! UNBROKEN!!

These episodes always make me think. Deeply.

Maybe this doesn’t happen to you, the miracle of the foot-long turd. Call it a gift, the ability to notice the smaller details of daily life.

When this phenomenon happens to me, I always have the urge to leave the poop in the toilet bowl so that someone else can witness and appreciate my miracle of the bowels, but most of the time I refrain. Brad thinks this is totally disgusting and makes him question why he married such an animal.

I think one rare, rare, rare time I left a 12-incher in there and Beatty came across it and I heard him yell, “Wow! That’s a big turd!” Oh, the satisfaction of that moment.

We all learn sooner or later that it is the little things in life that count. Wait. I mean big things. Or little moments about big things. Or something like that.